I was bored and wanted a laugh, so I decided to have a bit of fun. I hope you all enjoy, Prost!

Rhaegar Targaryan, the crown prince, heir to the Iron Throne, destined King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, future Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, all packaged along with being protector of the Realm, sighed in exasperation as his best friend Arthur Dayne budged his shoulder while nodding towards the blonde girl walking beside the King's Hand.

Rhaegar was used to the reactions of those who regularly came to court, and almost to the last they were sniveling sycophants trying to garner his father's favor, or doing their damnedest to marry into his family while simpering like uneducated fools.

When Mordred Lannister met his gaze though, she raised a brow, scoffed, and looked away in disdain as she turned towards a courtier to discuss the unloading of her luggage.

Wait.

What?

As the Hand of the King and his daughter walked past them Rhaegar couldn't help blinking rapidly as he turned towards Arthur, who, damn him, was trying his best to not break out laughing at the look on his friend's face.

"That...just happened, right?"

Arthur was still visibly resisting the urge to laugh if the shaking of his shoulders was any indication.

"If by 'That' you mean the Heiress of The Rock just completely and utterly ignored your existence and proceeded to treat the boy who was tasked with managing her luggage with more respect than she had bothered to even shoot in your direction, then yes. Yes that just happened."

What?

The Lady Mordred Lannister had held his curiosity beforehand, now, now she had Prince Rhaegar's attention.

Not that it would help him in any way, shape, or form.

The girl was introduced to his father and the gathered court, and was soon dismissed without any fanfare.

Rhaegar though...

Arthur stared at his friend for a few moments, and once again tried his best not to laugh.

This was going to be amusing.

"Don't hold back you ugly fucker!" Mordred yelled as she swung Clarent in an attempt to remove her sparring partners head.

Sandor Clegane growled in annoyance as he deflected her blow while kicking her in the stomach sending her flying.

"I ain't holding back ya daft cunt, yer just used to all the pansies wanting to bow down to yer daddy to suck his gold gilded cock."

Grinning Mordred spun her legs and hopped up as she twirled Clarent's hilt between her hands a moment before charging forward, "Bold words fucker, now meet them with actions!"

The young man grinned as well as he could with his burn scars while he rushed towards his self appointed charge, "As my lady demands, and yer still a daft cunt."

Mordred fucking loved Sandor Clegane.

Seriously, he was like male her without even a singular fuck to give about anything other than his little sister, Mordred, and mindless self indulgence. His hedonism was almost a work of art really and his beliefs in knightly honor (it didn't fucking exist so he did't bother with it, and if it did actually exist, fuck the gods that blessed it) earned him every bit of Lady Mordred's respect.

Meeting the minor lordling had been a complete accident on Mordred's part, she'd heard tale of a boy being badly burned in an accident who happened to be from an incredibly loyal family sworn to her own. Mordred...well...she had experience with the whole 'loyalty' thing and had arranged to meet the boy, future investments and all, then his little sister had pulled her aside to tell her what actually happened.

Mordred...did not enjoy the idea of cold blooded murder, but she also wasn't blind to reality and was very well aware that she lived in a world that was even more ruthless than the one she had originally been born into. Kairi taught her about right and wrong, far better than anyone in her formative years had, and considering the fact he thought himself to be amoral...well...that said something.

So when she found out what happened to Sandor, and his mother, and his father, all from the lips of his terrified and badly bruised little sister...

Mordred knew right from wrong...and had made a choice.

So, when she had murdered Gregor Clegane she had...been a bit messy about the whole process, inexperience and all that. Thus she was caught in the act by the older boy currently standing before her.

It had earned her his undying loyalty.

Funny how shit works out like that, eh?

Still, they were beating the shit out of each other and Mordred really, really wanted a bath at this point so she raised her hand and shook her head, "Enough Sandor, seven Hells that may be enough for the next week!"

Sandor broke out laughing and the very tall young man reached out and ruffled the petite, yet quite fierce, blonde's hair.

"Bollocks, you'll be bored by tomorrow morn'in pester'in me to come out to spare with you again."

Mordred grinned and shrugged, "You aren't wrong per say."

Sandor laughed again, shook his head, and walked away leaving Mordred on her own as she turned to shuck off her sparring armor. Eventually she managed to shimmy out of it all and soon finished hanging it up on the armories racks and was about to head back to the Hand's Keep when she finally had enough.

"Would you stop staring at me? It's freaking creepy!" Eventually a girly looking guy with white hair dressed in silks and an olive skinned manly looking bloke around her age wearing boiled leather armor stepped out from the shadows, both looking rather sheepish.

The girly guy bowed, then extended his hand towards her as he spoke, "I apologize, Lady Mordred, I simply wished to bask in your radiance without interference on my part. I hope I have not caused you any undo dissonance?"

Mordred stared at girly guy a few moments, glanced at the manly bloke for a heartbeat, then shifted her gaze back to girly guy while raising a brow, "I'm sorry, who the fuck are you?"

Arthur couldn't take it anymore, he broke out laughing.